Review: Sixteen in 10 Minutes or Less

Last weekend, Sixteen in 10 Minutes or Less opened at the Four County Players in Barboursville, Virginia. Directed by 17-year-old Hannah Mawyer, the production has been extremely well received, and will continue to run for the next two weekends. Below I have pasted a very positive review Mawyer and company received in the Orange County Review. I so wish that I could be there to support their production, as well as to see all of the wonderfully inventive ideas they've incorporated (one of the actors plays the dog!), but reading this review gave me an idea of the energy and creativity they brought to the show, and in a sense made me feel like I was there to see it. Congratulations to all on a job clearly well done!

"Sixteen" a funny, heartwarming glimpse at teen life

Gracie Hart Brooks
February 5, 2013
Orange County Review
 

A sudden snowstorm didn't stop theatergoers from enjoying "Sixteen in 10 Minutes of Less" Saturday night at the Four County Players.

The play, featuring a teenage cast and director, is being performed in Four County's black box theater The Cellar and is a collection of 10 10-minute plays combined into one humorous, yet heartwarming look at what it means to be 16 years old. The play tackles everything from the pitfalls of braces to divorce and bullying.

Vance (Sheridan Parkinson) is the wheelchair-bound teenager, slightly insecure due to both his condition and his status as a new student. His insecurities are expressed in "Friend Request," when he befriends fellow new student Cindy (Dora Baker), but is too afraid to show her that he's wheelchair bound. Meanwhile, Cindy falls into the mean girl scene with fellow student and mean girl ring leader Piper (Jenneca Graber-Grace). Then there's shy, artsy Laura (Grace Hynes) who is unfortunately the brunt of their jokes, something she shares with her dog Jeff (Bradley Shipp), whom she refers to as "her true friend." Sweet, talkative Samantha (Julia Hatter) and her boyfriend, Brody (Jacob DeLoriea) round out the cast, along with Piper's brother James (Shipp).

All of the young actors do an exceptional job of making the audience feel what it's like to be 16 years old. Particularly poignant is "Payphone," a scene in which James (Shipp) experiences a nightmare concerning his role in the divorce of his parents. Brody (DeLoriea) also has a scene expressing his feelings about the divorce of his parents in "Wheels." "Bench Warrant" is also gripping in its portrayal of bullying as Samantha (Hatter) stands up to both Cindy (Baker) and Piper (Graber-Grace) when they harass Laura (Hynes). And both "Friend Request" and "Status Update: A Symphony" address the cyber culture of today's teenagers. The play also has its light moments, particularly seen in "Brace Yourself" as James (Shipp) tries to remove an unknown object from his braces. "Tumblefur" is also sure to get some laughs as Shipp portrays Laura's dog Jeff.

"Sixteen in 10 Minutes or Less" by Bradley Hayward is the directorial debut of 17-year-old Hannah Mawyer. Having been involved in numerous Four County productions, this play marks Mawyer's first attempt at directing. It likely won't be her last though, as she seems to excel at her new role. Mawyer was mentored during the process by Geri Carlson Sauls, who along with Tres Wells, serves as producer.
Scene designer Elyse Bennett uses minimal sets and props for this production, placing all the focus on the characters and their stories. Lighting designer Rowena Halpin especially excels during a scene in which lighting is used to replicate fireworks.

"Sixteen in 10 Minutes or Less" runs weekends through Feb. 17. Friday and Saturday shows begin at 8 p.m. and Sunday shows begin at 2:30 p.m. All tickets are $12. For more information or to purchase tickets, call the box office at 832-5355 or visit www.fourcp.org.

Young Playwrights Urban Retreat

In the summer of 2001 I spent a week in the heart of Manhattan, taking part in the YPI Urban Retreat -- a week long playwriting intensive offered by Young Playwrights Inc. Founded by Stephen Sondheim in 1981, YPI has given thousands of young playwrights the opportunity to experience, first hand, just what it takes to develop good theater. At the time of the retreat, I was 20 years old and thrilled to meet a dozen other playwrights my age. Up to that point I had not met anyone who shared my ambition for playwrighting, so it came as quite a shock when I mentioned Terrence McNally's name and someone else in the room had an opinion. I was immediately struck by the talent of our entire group, which encouraged me to work hard and learn as much from them as possible. It was an extraordinary week of writing, lectures, dramaturgy, and performances.

With John Weidman, after a performance of Contact. YPI Urban Retreat 2001.

One of the highlights of the retreat for me was attending a performance of Edward Albee's The Play About the Baby, starring the incomparable Marian Seldes. Ms. Seldes is a rare breed -- a theater legend with the enthusiasm of a novice -- and she was kind enough to participate in a talk back with us wide-eyed scribes after the performance. She could not have been more receptive to our questions, although I do recall her insistence that we get to the point.

YOUNG PLAYWRIGHT: May I ask you a question?
MARIAN SELDES: You just did.

I was enamored with her colorful stories about her theatrical experiences, both past and present, yet her commanding presence was so intimidating that I became tongue-tied when my opportunity to ask a question arose. She quickly recognized this hesitation, ran her fingers through her wild mop of gray hair, and said something about the best questions being those unasked. I regret not having the words to express how overwhelmed I was by her brilliant performance (both in the play and the talk back), but looking back I realize that I learned more from her ability to divert attention from my humiliation to her technique than any question I might have asked. Most of all, I will never forget her genuine interest in where we came from and what we had to say, as if she was auditioning years in advance for the plays we would go on to write in the future. There was not a hint of condescension in her voice (which is more than I can say for some of the other professionals we met), and she treated us as contemporaries, which gave me the confidence to believe that a career in the theater was indeed possible. Her words stuck with me for weeks after the retreat; so much so that I ended up writing her a note, thanking her for her time and expertise. Much to my surprise, a postcard bearing her signature arrived in my mailbox shortly thereafter. Addressed "Dear Playwright," she thanked me for my letter and expressed the hope that our paths would cross in the future. So do I, I thought. And still do.

I learned a great deal that week, both about the craft and business of playwrighting, but the biggest lesson did not come until years later. Deep within a box hidden in the back of my closet, I discovered the journal I kept with me that entire week in New York City. Scribbled in the margins were some notes I had made for one of our class assignments. We were asked to take in our surroundings and write down anything that made the "scene" unique. I wrote about some shadows being cast in two separate directions, stretching out for what seemed like miles on either side of me. Pasted beside these notes was a photograph of myself, seated on a dirty bench in front of the World Trade Center. Little did I know when I wrote those notes that the towers behind me would come crashing down a few short weeks later. It was at that moment I finally understood the true meaning of our assigned task: it's a playwright's responsibility to capture moments that would otherwise be lost in time forever.

I've stayed in touch with a few of my fellow young playwrights over the years. Some have continued to write, others not. Plays have been written, produced. Books completed, published. And back in 2001, none of us could have foreseen how websites, blogs, and even Twitter would give us a very public platform to express our points of view. I'm grateful for every day that I'm able to work as a professional playwright, and I can't help but believe that getting my feet wet that week in New York gave me the courage to eventually dive into the pool, head first.

As for Ms. Seldes, I'm still holding my breath.

Reading Room: Chemo Girl and Other Plays

 
My friend Christian Kiley has written a collection of four beautiful plays that absolutely need to be read, produced, and experienced. I had the great honor of reading Chemo Girl and Other Plays while it was in the development process and I cannot tell you how much they moved me. They are fascinating, sensitive, and (most amazingly) humorous portrayals of teenagers dealing with cancer, from a variety of different perspectives.

My father passed away from cancer when I was 14, so The Other Room hit a nerve that I was not expecting. The play centers around a teenager coping with his dad's illness as he recovers from chemotherapy treatments in the other room. My father's death was a defining experience in my life, yet I've never been able to put into words the experience of going through his demise. The fear I had of going into that "other room" continues to haunt me to this day, and The Other Room is so real, so raw, that I felt as though I was experiencing that fear all over again. At first I wasn't sure I could handle it, but as the play progressed I felt myself coming to peace with my dad's passing, and as I turned the final page, tears of joy were running down my face. It was the catharsis I had been looking for since I was 14. It was exactly the play I needed at the exact time I needed it...and one that I wish I could have written myself.

My niece is currently battling leukemia and her courage and determination inspires me every single day. Her positive outlook in the face of such unfortunate circumstances reminds me that anything is possible if we put our heart and soul into it. So when I read Chemo Girl, about a young girl who finds the strength to fight her own battle with cancer through video games, I was reminded of my niece and what a super hero she has become. The theatricality and creative invention of Chemo Girl blurs the line between fantasy and reality in a way that young actors and directors will really be able to sink their teeth into.

The two other plays in the collection, Red Rover and Waiting Room, tackle the physical and emotional repercussions of a cancer diagnosis. The two plays could not be more different, yet they compliment one another beautifully and provide actors the opportunity to tell a story with their bodies as well as their voices.

Chemo Girl and Other Plays is now available from Theatrefolk and I encourage anyone looking for a play that will knock the socks off their audience to consider it for their next production. It's a truly extraordinary evening of theater that will delight, enlighten, and inspire everyone involved.

Review: Les Misérables

Every year I say that I'm going to see all of the Oscar nominees for Best Picture, but that's a lie. It's true that I've gone to movies simply because they were nominated, and I've seen several great ones that I never would have discovered on my own (Moneyball, Winter's Bone, Precious, In the Bedroom, to name a few). But just because a movie is up for awards doesn't mean I'll see something that I know I'll hate. I know me and I know what I can't sit through, no matter how good it might be. For instance, I'm sure Django Unchained is a very well made film, but I loathe blood and guts and gore and such, so chances are good I'll hate it. In fact, I've never liked a Quentin Tarantino movie, although I do tend to believe people when they tell me he's a genius. Same holds true for Zero Dark Thirty, directed by Kathryn Bigelow. It's probably terrific, but I'll never know. I've taken everybody's word that her film The Hurt Locker deserved Best Picture, but I know I can't handle it so I refuse to go there.

So what made me think I'd like Les Misérables? Well, I suppose it's because I love the theater, write plays, and am obsessed with musicals. I'm a Hugh Jackman fan, enjoy the French, and thought The King's Speech (from the same director) was wonderful. But here's the problem: I've never liked the musical. Les Misérables is depressing and bloated and melodramatic and confusing. True, it has one or two remarkably good songs, but they only serve to remind the audience that the rest of the music is bleak and repetitive. I'm the first to admit that I get tears in my eyes when hear but two bars of "Do You Hear the People Sing?" It's an epic song, one of the best ever written. And of course it comes at the end of the show, which sweeps all of the play's faults under the rug by manipulating the audience into believing the whole thing was equally as moving. It's not.

What I'm trying to say is that it's probably unfair for me to judge the film, given that I find the source material so appalling. So instead, here are a few bullet point reactions to things in the movie that were not clouded by my misgivings for plot.

- Hugh Jackman carries the entire film on his own. He is incredible in every way.

- Anne Hathaway is not as good as everyone says she is, and Russell Crowe is not as bad as everyone says he is.

- Anne Hathaway is very hammy. In search of an Oscar, she acts out every chapter from Uta Hagen's "Respect for Acting" and few from "Anxiety Attacks for Dummies."

- The first hour is far too hard to watch and required some levity. Helena Bonham Carter and Sasha Baron Cohen add some desperately needed humor, but they're entrance is somewhat jarring because up to that point there had been no comedy whatsoever.

- Amanda Seyfried is beautiful, but can't sing a note.

- Eddie Redmayne and Aaron Tveidt should have swapped roles.

- The little boy is very good.

- The director helps clarify confusing plot points by pointing the camera in all the right places, yet I still had no idea what the hell was going in the second hour.

- Who is Samantha Barks and did women really pluck their eyebrows so aggressively in 19th century France?

- Russell Crowe's suicide is nicely shot, although when did he find time to dry clean his uniform in the middle of a revolution?

- It's too long.

- The curtain call ending, with all the actors smiling on a big heap of furniture, is so over-the-top that I expected the actors to bow.

- I was disappointed when they didn't.

Photos: I Don't Want to Talk About It (Florence High)

Congratulations to the cast and crew of I Don't Want To Talk About It from Florence High School for winning Superior Play and Superior Ensemble at the South Dakota State One-Act Festival! Below are some photos from their phenomenal production.

"That's the thing about small talk. It keeps getting bigger and bigger until someone gets clobbered by it."

"You know that little voice inside your head? The one that tells you what's right and what's wrong? Well, mine's a jackass."

"If I hold my breath for a really, really, really, really, really, really, really, REALLY long time, I can get whatever I want without sayin' nothing."

"They weren't talking behind my back. They were stabbing it!"

 "There are two different kinds of dreams. The kind you have when you're asleep, and the kind you have when you're awake. As far as I can tell, you can't control either one."

 

"Words ruin everything. They don't express feelings. They hurt them."

"It's not that I don't have anything to say. It's that I don't know how to say it."

 

"Most people get from point A to point B without any trouble. But I'm not most people."

Production directed by Laura J, Hummel with the following cast: Ben Hummel, Nicolas Teughels, Lindsey Goldade, Katie Mastel, Sam Sheffield, Derek Olson, Ashley Ronke, Jolinda Hagen, Chris Gollnick, Mareike Boenig.

I Don't Want to Talk About It is published by Playscripts, Inc. Click here to read a preview and order scripts.

Photos courtesy South Dakota Public Broadcasting.

Farce, Part 3: Moon Over Buffalo

The greatest theatrical experience I've ever had, apart from those as a playwright, is undoubtedly when I had the chance to direct Moon Over Buffalo by Ken Ludwig. I had wanted to direct it from the very moment I first read the script and I thankfully did not have to wait long to get that opportunity.

The year was 2003 and I was a board member at Lakeshore Players in White Bear Lake, Minnesota. Despite being on the board, landing a directing position was not a sure thing, so I did my homework and came to the interview prepared. I wrote out a complete vision for the show, complete with scenic design sketches and blocking sheets for key scenes. I got the job, but I'm sure it had less to do with my preparation than it did my enthusiasm for the play.

Have I mentioned that I love Moon Over Buffalo? Well, I do. When it opened on Broadway, it was criticized for having a somewhat creaky script, yet it ran for a healthy nine months and has since become enormously popular with regional, community, and high school theaters. It's a beautifully constructed farce with delicious characters and hilarious situations. In my mind, that makes it a huge success. So there!

I strongly believe that 90% of good directing is good casting. If I can match the right actor with the right character, then I can step aside and let them find their own way through the material. After all, I'm not the one who will be standing up in front of hundreds of people. But it doesn't end there. A good director also needs to match the right actors with the right actors. This is something I believe I'm particularly good at, and one of my favorite parts of the process. To create a community from scratch and have the opportunity to watch it develop is what I believe the theater is all about.

When given the choice between the best actor and the best person, I always choose the best person. I firmly believe this leads to a happier creative atmosphere; one where the actors are able to work in a safe environment, free from competition, which enables them to develop a genuine chemistry that cannot be faked. I can work with someone not perfect for their particular role, so long as they are able to work with me. Thankfully, I did not have to make such concessions on Moon Over Buffalo. The best actors were also the best people, and the memories of our rehearsals together are among the fondest I have.

The greatest cast and crew ever assembled. Moon Over Buffalo, Lakeshore Players, 2003.

After sitting at the keyboard for what seems like an eternity, I realize that I do not have the proper words to express what my cast and crew of Moon Over Buffalo meant to me then, nor what they continue to mean to me today. But I can say that our little group of 12 put on one hell of a good show. While the play may have been farce, our brief time together was far from it. So while I cannot generate the words, nor share any proof other than my word, nor find an audience member who saw anything more than what made it to the stage, I know in my heart that the experience was something special. "Magic" is about the best word I can think of to describe it.

Come to think of it, this inability to put my feelings into words is exactly why I'm so enamored with the theater. Theater exists only in the present, evaporating the very moment it's over. Sure, the memory of a great performance might stay with a person forever, but the actual moment -- the magic -- lasts but a second. And it's the hunt for that moment, that second, that magic, that makes me smile, makes me laugh, makes me happy.

That's farce. That's theater. That's life.